


Crossing Over

by slothinsocks



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Overprotective, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: After their passionate night in Sorgan, Jola, the child, and the Mandalorian move onto new places.
Relationships: The Mandalorian & Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Crossing Over

**Author's Note:**

> I had way more positive feedback than I thought, and lots of people wanting more! So, I'm giving the people what they want: more Jando content. Enjoy! ^-^

————

Many often questioned the allegiance of Jola — what was her business amongst that of a Mandalorian? Why was a Mirialan traveling alongside him?

It was a complicated story, intertwined into that of bounty hunting. Two years prior, Jola had once been a target herself. Her attunement to the Force was something of a rarity in the times following the decline of the Galactic Empire. If it didn’t frighten people, many certainly felt threatened by her existence. The mystique surrounding the Force had stretched for several decades, and perhaps centuries -- those who didn’t wield it, often reserved their own judgments toward it. 

The Mirialan were rarely seen amongst the denizens of the galaxy — ever present during the Clone Wars and earlier on, taking seats of power amongst the legendary Jedi Council, they were now few and far between. Jola often brought about curiosity whenever people caught a glimpse of her. Yet, the Mirialan were a peaceful people hailing from the lush planet of Mirial, it was their spiritual bond to the Force that produced many children with abilities of Force sensitivity. 

Jola found it difficult to cement her place within the galaxy, long ago. Perhaps that was something she shared with The Mandalorian, a feeling of not belonging. This emptiness and lapse of judgement made her do many foolish things, and that attracted the attention of eager bounty hunters willing to make quick coin in exchange for her head. 

It wasn’t only the Force that protected her, all this time, but a particular Mandalorian who’d chosen to spare her life two years ago. He’d still never given her a reason as to why he didn’t bring her in . . . Jola never forgot about that — being shown mercy. Ever since, she joined him as something of a companion. Her powers were something to be coveted, and to be feared. Superstition was present regarding those who used the Force. 

Then again, Jola was temperamental at times and untrained to use the Force how it was intended to be used — for peacekeeping. Though, her knowledge happened to be a touch larger than some. It was this knowledge that she attempted to convey to the child. He was young, and he had plenty to learn. If the IG-11 droid was correct, he’d live centuries. Jola knew to let him be a child whilst the opportunity presented itself. 

It had been days since the trio had departed from the farming planet of Sorgan, and days since Jola and Mando had shared a bed together, and then some. Their demeanor toward one another had certainly shifted — from a business relationship, to something more. Affection lingered, and if it weren’t for their mission to find a new planet, she would’ve had her hands all over him again. He wouldn’t be the first to admit to his burning feelings, but Jola didn’t pay any mind to his antics. 

The cockpit of his vessel wasn’t as tight as some, and Jola was sitting soundly in the copilot’s chair, one leg propped up against the control console, with the green baby on her lap. She stared out into the far reaches of hyperspace, as the bluish, illuminated streaks reflected themselves against his silvery helmet. 

The child grasped at the series of trinkets she wore, attempting to place the amulet hanging from her neck into his mouth. Drool pooled from his mouth, along with a series of innocent babbles and coos that could make anyone’s heart melt with adoration. 

“Not this,” Jola uttered, her tone soft and motherly. She calmly pried the pendant away from his maw, swiping away any spittle onto her grey tunic. Instead, she offered the child something a little more entertaining. It was an old holocron stored away within the recesses of her knapsack, something to keep the little one entertained. 

Once presented with this, the child immediately wriggled, turning to show the Mandalorian what Jola had given him. Those large, dark eyes were wide with wonder, even more so when he peered out into space. Stars zoomed past them, planets being passed along the way. 

“A holocron,” He murmured, glancing for a short while away from the panels and controls. “You don’t want this?” A gloved finger jabbed at the small, spherical object covering one of the many sticks that piloted the ship. The child sank back down into Jola’s lap, busy trying to chew on the holocron. “Course you don’t.” The Mandalorian mused, turning slightly before pressing a green button.

“We’ll need to find somewhere to stop, soon. Supplies, figure out our next move.” Jola stated, watching as he rose from the pilot’s seat. The button was to allow the vessel to travel on the selected course, an autopilot maneuver. “Where are you going?” She inquired, one dark eyebrow lifting.

“Prepping our supplies for when we land. It won’t be long. We’re going to the planet Lothal — any Imperial control has been wiped out completely. Backwater towns and bounty hunters stay close to the capital. Lots of smaller settlements to choose from. We’ll find something there.” He replied, his cape snapping as he strode away, exiting through the door that led to the body of the ship.

Being left alone within the cockpit, Jola turned her attention to the child, gently stroking his fat, babyish cheek with her index finger. Churring with contentment, she continued until she was nearly caressing his face, the kid slumping into her touch. “Sweet little one,” She sighed, moving her hand away after a moment. Mando was right about the child being devilishly adorable. 

Instead, Jola had an idea. Her form twisted, making sure to avoid the child. Twisting away the silvery ball adorning one of the sticks, she held it within her palm. With concentration and a will found within the Force, the object began to levitate, hovering in the space around her palm.

The child blinked, somewhat awestruck before he too extended one little hand, his eyes squeezing shut as concentration filled his features. He was struggling to use it, yet as Jola allowed it to drop, the child kept it afloat with one hand, until it fell moments later. His form flopped back against her leg, somewhat pressed with exhaustion.

\--------

The Mandalorian watched all of this through the window etched into the door, bewildered at this. He had spared the lives of two Force-sensitive individuals. Was it a knack he had, saving those gifted with the Force? Nonetheless, something tugged at his heartstrings whenever Jola and the child interacted in such an intimate way. Seeing the pair smile at one another was . . . Heartfelt, to put it mildly. 

Returning through the very same door, he made his way toward the pilot’s chair, sinking into it. He turned to face both Jola and the child, noticing the silvery sphere in her hand. “Practicing?” He mused, amusement found within his tone, even when looking past the modulator. 

“I suppose so.” Jola replied with a gentle smile, watching as the child clamored from her lap, and into that of the Mandalorian’s. The kid still held her holocron within his lap, unable to let it go. Of course, the object was now slathered in dropl. He sat soundly, curled up against his chest. “That’s sweet.” She pointed it out, unable to stop smiling after that display of affection. 

“Little womp rat is a lover, I’ll give him that.” He grunted, and gently, one of his arms shifted to hold the child, noticing Jola’s softened gaze fixated upon the two of them. One of the Mirialan’s hands reached out for his, curling gently around the leathery surface of his glove. 

An unusual sight, though it was for his eyes only. As callous and rough as he appeared on the outside, the Mandalorian was softer than expected. His affection for the child made itself known in silence, but his feelings for the Mirialan on his right were . . . Expressed in a different way. 

As the vessel continued to speed through hyperspace, they finally came to a lurching crawl, emerging from the tunnel of light, and before that of a large planet. Its surface was a mix of rolling plans and semi-arid savannahs, accompanied with the ridges of mountains which surrounded cool, cerulean oceans. 

It looked like a good place for them to settle for a few days, gather supplies and move onto the next place. Jola found their lifestyle of “constantly on the move” to be a little more exciting to her than staying stagnant in one place, even if it was more beneficial. Lothal loomed in the distance, and the Mandalorian reached to snatch the back of the child’s little swaddle, placing him back into Jola’s lap. Focusing on flying, the autopilot switch was promptly turned off, and he pushed forward on some of the controls. 

The chromium ship pressed forward, traveling through space and closer to Lothal’s atmosphere. In the midst of their flight, the Mandalorian was attempting to pinpoint smaller settlements that might let them stay for a few days. With other bounty hunters still trailing the child, they couldn’t be so cautious anymore. He remained on a higher alert than before, especially since he harbored two individuals of interest. The scanners on the ship picked up a small settlement, named “Haven”, nestled into a stretch of plain that met monstrous, scaling mountains -- that would suffice, for now. 

Their descent into the atmosphere was swift, yet as soon as they broke through the cloudline, golden, rolling plans and jagged, black mountains could be seen from their aerial position. The grass swayed with the breeze, reminding her of a sea of pure halcyon. Some residue of snow was speckled across the highest peaks, though the rest of the area didn’t seem so cold -- temperate, if anything. Approaching Haven, the Mandalorian noticed a more secluded spot, a series of twisting cliff sides and massive rock that would hide the vessel well enough. 

He maneuvered the vessel with expertise, allowing to crawl to a slow pace once they reached the rocks. It was a tight fit, but he managed, getting the ship inside and landing it all within a few movements of sticks and buttons. Once everything fell still, Jola unfastened herself, taking the child along with her. The Mandalorian was faster than her, and made sure to check all of the controls before departing.

Following him, they gathered what supplies needed refilling, along with a crate of his weaponry. Helpling him to stack it all upon a small, hovering cart, he unlocked the main hull door. Jola’s own materials and belongings were few, though she didn fashion the child his own sling. Plucking him up from the floor where he waddled along, she situated him into the woven cloth that stretched across her torso. It was safer for him there, and with the length of this grass, she felt more reassured if the kid was with her. 

“Smart,” He mused, his remark directed at the baby-carrying sling. Jola flashed a smile soon afterwards, though her shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. “Easy to get lost in this grass.” Once the door fell open, he stepped forward, cart following behind him, and Jola at his side, her form packed with items.

The trio exited the jagged cave, stepping into fresh, wispy golden grass that was nearly as high as their waists. Their walk would be longer than he’d like it to be, but Jola usually kept up with him. Her hand dragged over the tips of the grass, curious as ever. It felt softer, almost downy against her palms. The ocean of goldenrod strands swayed, willowy in the breeze. Their surroundings brought about a certain serenity -- perhaps not as much as Sorgan, but close enough to mirror the experience.

Suns waned behind a thin layer of grey clouds, spreading out rays from beneath. Sunset was already breaking out across Lothal, which prompted the Mandalorian to increase his pace. He wanted to make it to Haven before nightfall, especially if something unknown lurked about within the grasses. The child watched the land pass before him, partially wriggling out from the confines of the sling, his intrigue never fully sated. Wonder and awe were never far out of the child’s reach, and the more he saw of the galaxy, the more curious he became.

The more the sun began to disappear behind the clouds, the faster the Mandalorian walked. Nighttime on foreign planets was dangerous -- not knowing what was out there being the worst. Jola still kept pace with him, right on his heels as they continued to wade through grass, eventually finding it cleared out, a dirt path replacing grass. They must’ve been getting closer, as this shoddy road happened to be marked with small, burning lanterns.

Yet, not even the presence of a walkway could ease the tensions. Jola froze, her body tensing slightly. “Stop,” She murmured, holding up one finger. She sensed something -- and so did he. The Mandalorian was swift to draw his blaster, and Jola removed her sword from the holster placed against her thigh. 

Rustling resonated out from the grass, almost forming in a circular motion as it began to close in around them. Jola’s first instinct was to use the Force, but she couldn’t get a clear target. The child was still peeking over the edge of the sling, wanting to see what was happening. She stepped closer to Mando, nearly back-to-back with him.

“Stay close to me,” He ordered, drawing out a wicked vibroknife with the other hand. Jola did as he told her to, feeling the presence become closer and closer --

A massive, purple shape burst forth from the grass, pouncing directly in between the pair. Its shape was feline, yet hulking and almost grotesque in size. Luminous, golden eyes trained themselves upon Jola, who didn’t have nearly as much protection as the Mandalorian. Four wicked paws were adorned with razor-sharp claws, nearly as long as the length of her wrist and hand. Not only that, but the silvery, thick horn that protruded from its skull posed an even deadlier challenge. 

Jola’s protected the child, shielding the fall with her arm. Immediately, she tore the bundle off of her, placing him into the hovering cart, amongst the various items there. It would be safer instead of strapped against her chest. Mando charged in, firing off his blaster toward the creature’s head. It dodged and maneuvered itself like a living shadow, twisting and turning until one round of blaster fire hit its shoulder. 

Effortlessly flinging herself into the conflict, Jola leapt, grappling onto the sabercat’s back, attempting to drive her sword inside of the creature. It thrashed and yowled, whipping around and snapping wildly to try and remove her. The blade bit hard into its side, blood pouring outward from the wound, nearly spraying all over her. At last, it had gotten her off, blade still buried into its ribcage. Wicked teeth bit at her leg, effectively sinking into her.

Jola cried out, one hand thrusting outward. Her arm trembled, yet the creature was flung off of her using the Force, flying through the air and crashing into the grass. Her first instinct was to apply pressure, though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in this much pain. Her hands clamored to try and clutch at her leg. It had sliced right through the leather of her pants, and blood began to pool next to her.

The Mandalorian was on the move, appearing in a blur and flash of steely armor and a snap of his cape. He finished the beast off with several harsh stabs to the skull, burying the vibroknife into one eye, and then into the jugular. Sabercat blood sprayed all over his armor, coating the Beskar steel in a layer of viscous liquid. The creature groaned and huffed, releasing a final breath before collapsing into the dirt with a strident thud. Its body twitched slightly, even in death, with Jola’s blade still buried halfway into its flank.

Curled up within the dirt, Jola struggled to stand, though it didn’t take long for the Mandalorian to stop her, a strong hand pressing gingerly against her shoulder. “Don’t.” He ordered, crouched beside her. His fingers pulled away the torn fabric still clinging to her leg, and already, her thigh had become turgid, blood oozing freely from her wounds. 

“How bad is it?” She breathed, her gaze drifting toward the cart. The child was peering over the ledge, ears wilted with concern. His noises were those of distress, and Mando snatched him off of the edge, removing him from the sling. The child tumbled towards her, extending one hand toward her leg. “No,” Jola murmured, gently lowering his little palm with her finger. “Save your energy, little one.” She flashed a smile in a halfhearted attempt to reassure him.

“Bad.” He replied, his tone sharp and clipped. Twining that cloth sling around her leg, it was enough to stave off the flow of blood for a short while. Slipping one arm underneath her, the other moved underneath the backs of her knees, lifting her into his arms. “We’re close.” Deep beneath the stoic tone, he was worried, breath a little shaky. Odd for him to feel that way, but Jola didn’t make any comments on it.

The child went back to the cart, still poised at the edge. He was worried about his friend, that much was clear. The Mandalorian nearly broke into a job, desperate to get them to Haven. They traveled much further down the path, until it led to high gates, where travelers passed through and out. 

Locals who were out near dusk ogled the scene with both confusion and awe -- a Mandalorian, a Mirialan, and a child. A strange trio, indeed. The lack of assistance was beginning to frustrate him, yet he understood that they were strangers here. His pace was filled with haste, brusque as he shoved past onlookers, until they found themselves in a more isolated part of the small traveler’s port. 

A Rodian had finally noticed their predicament. The dark, olive - colored alien made her presence known, approaching the Mandalorian with her hands raised. “I can help,” One finger motioned back toward a sizeable complex. “I have spare rooms for your family. Come.” He felt as if his options were limited, and so he followed the Rodian up a winding path that led them toward a stark, white complex closest to the mountains. She shuffled along, and once they’d gotten to the doors, she accessed it with her palm. 

“Is there anyone else here?” The Mandalorian questioned, his tone borderline accusatory. He didn’t have time to clash with anyone else over space. Jola was nearly unconscious within his grasp, which set him on-edge. Irritation and agitation had washed over him in waves.

“No, friend. Just us.” The Rodian led them inside, motioning to the corridor off to the right. “There, you will find spare rooms. Use them at your leisure, friend.” She hesitated, wanting to press him with questions. “You’re a Mandalorian, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” He answered seamlessly, already heading for the corridor she’d pointed to. There wasn’t any time for small talk, but the Rodian was following behind them. “If you’re here to converse, this isn’t the time.” He grunted, attempting to open the door.

The alien opened it for him with a simple phrase from her native tongue, staring at him with intrigue. “I wanted to offer my assistance. This is a medical facility, after all.” She mused, and after the small, white door had slid open, he stepped inside. 

Jola finally spoke up after being silent for so long, her eyes half-lidded, her grip weak from the loss of blood. “Just let her,” She sighed, and it took her to get the Mandalorian to comply. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Jola alone with a complete stranger, yet he had no other choice. It wasn’t as if he knew much about the medical realm, and the kid was frightened enough after that violent scenario.

After placing Jola down onto one of the beds, the Rodian glanced over her shoulder. “She’ll be fine, friend. I wouldn’t dare cross you.” Her tone was reassuring, but it still didn’t convince him enough. Standing closer to the doorway, it took the whimpers of the child to get him to leave, the door sliding shut behind him.

The hover-cart was still lingering in the lobby area, with the child sitting atop the heaps of nearly-empty supplies. The Mandalorian approached, lifting the kid from the platform with a sigh. “She’ll be fine,” He murmured, tucking him into one arm, and used the other to unload what they had. The kindness of strangers wasn’t entirely foreign to him -- the scrapper Kuil had helped them before, too, along with the farmers on Sorgan. Perhaps, the galaxy still harbored plenty of good people.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion for him. It was beginning to get under his skin, the waiting. He should’ve stayed there with her. His mind had wandered to conjure up negative scenarios, and he couldn’t wait any longer. Opening the door, he stepped inside, watching the Rodian pass by him without a word.  
Jola was half-asleep, sprawled out across the bed situated in the far corner. A white sheet was partially tugged over her, and the thigh that had once been maimed was completely wrapped-up in clean, fresh bandages. One of her arms dangled off of the edge, and heavy, deep exhales left her. It would’ve been more amusing to him if she hadn't been nearly slaughtered by that creature. 

Feeling a sense of relief, the Mandalorian watched the door shut behind him. Placing the kid onto solid ground, he stepped toward her slumbering frame, gently running his gloved palm across her hair. At least the three of them were safe, for now. The child yawned, though immediately moved to snatch at Jola’s hand, effectively waking her up.

“A familiar face,” Her voice was muddled, partially pressed against the pillows. “Hello, little one.” She lifted her hand to gently rub the top of his head. The kid churred with happiness, hopping up and down before Jola swept him up with one arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Her gaze soon lifted to Mando, who was hovering near her, head tilted down to meet her stare. Instead of speaking, she gave him a toothy smile.

Without thinking, he was smiling back -- underneath the helmet, of course. “You made it,” He remarked, taking a seat near her, upon the edge of the bed. Absentmindedly, he reached out, and once again, caressed his fingers across the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.” His tone shifted slightly, but it was more wrought with worry than anything else.

“Do what? Protect you?” Jola rolled her eyes, and both she and the child were staring up at him. “Noted, I won’t do it again.” Her smile turned into a faint smirk, and for someone who’d just nearly been bitten to death, she was jovial. Her attitude was beginning to really rub off on him. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.

“I could’ve handled it, Jola. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” The Mandalorian knew that there was no such thing as arguing with her over this, it was a fight that he simply couldn’t win. Nonetheless, it was there for his peace of mind. 

“It’s fine, Mando.” Her affectionate little nickname was growing on him, and whenever it rolled so smoothly from her tongue, he found himself entranced. “For all of your skills and experience, I am happy to do some of the work sometimes. It’s just a bite,” Jola shrugged, propping herself up with one hand. “No match for the Force.”

“Clearly not enough.” He grumbled, swiping his leathery thumb over her tattooed cheek. “Just a bite? Imagine if it had torn your leg apart, then what?” As much as he wanted to be agitated with her for her lack of care and recklessness, he couldn’t. She really was trying to protect him, and protecting the child. That was just as much of her duty as it was his own. Deep down, he was really just overprotective and . . . Worried. 

Jola hesitated, and found his worrying over her to be . . . Sweet. She moved forward, fingertips creeping underneath his helmet, enough to partially remove it. There was just enough space for the Mirialan to press a kiss against his lips, and before he could try and reciprocate, she’d let his helmet go, dropping it back over his visage. “Save it for later.” She mused, her nose wrinkling slightly at his subtle frustration.

The child wriggled his way in between them, which didn’t exactly kill the mood - it enhanced it. Jola found that little emerald baby to be the cutest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. A creature that had stolen her heart? Absolutely. There might’ve been something else cute enough to rival the child, but it something . . . Amatory. She immediately thought of Mando’s blush when she stroked him off several nights ago. That was something else entirely. 

“Alright,” He grunted, picking him up by his brown tunic. “Bedtime.” Several feet away, the Mandalorian placed the child into a carrier of sorts, making sure to wrap him in a blanket. The kid had Jola’s holocron with him, and began chewing on it as soon as he’d backed away from the makeshift crib. “Rat.” He scoffed, though it was playful term of endearment, in his book. Giving him a little pat atop his ears, he moved away, turning some of the lights off until only gentle illumination poured from the washroom.

Jola watched as he removed his helmet, visage partially hidden with the darkness. He placed it alongside his rifle and cape, unfastening the straps that held the adamant armor to his form. The idea of cleaning up sounded relaxing to him, and if they were going to stay here to lay low, he might as well take advantage of what was provided. He felt arms slip around his bare torso, a soft cheek pressing against the space between his shoulder blades. 

Her affectionate gesture left him yearning for more, though a sigh finally escaped him - he was relaxed as he could possibly be in an environment like this. Twisting around within her embrace, his calloused, rough palms lifted to her face, trapping it within his grasp. Brazenly, he dipped down to kiss her, feeling one of her hands wrap loosely around his forearm. Everything about her was soft, physically - yet her heart was tempered, akin to steel. Jola nearly melted when he was the one to initiate, finding herself enamored with him.

His bronze skin glistened in the low light of their quarters, muscles taut and tense with stress. Dark eyebrows furrowed together, studying her visage so closely. He hadn’t absorbed her so completely - not even on Sorgan. Now, he saw Jola, almost as if it were the very first time again. She was beautiful, complex and baleful, yet so comely in the best ways. Upon closer observation, the Mandalorian hadn’t realized she’d been standing there without pants this entire time. 

Grinding his teeth together, he fought back the waves of desire that were beginning to tug at his mind and at his heart. She was injured - even if they did, it wouldn’t exactly be comfortable for her. This was Jola, of course - he knew she wouldn’t say no. It wasn’t fair to her for him to toss his desires upon her, especially after the incident hours ago. He kissed her again, compassionate and filled with something uxorious. His hand found its way into her hair, fingers weaving themselves into those silken, black tresses of hers. Yet, Jola kissed him with a fire roused inside of her, one arm tangling itself around his neck, urging him to come closer. 

“Jola,” He uttered between hot, feverish kisses, which prompted her to stop. “We shouldn’t. Not with your condition.” He sighed, fearing he’d leave her dissatisfied and disappointed. However, her reaction was something of the opposite. 

“I’m agreeing with you for the first time. Isn’t it remarkable?” She teased, and it actually got the Mandalorian to smile fully - genuine, too. His pearlescent teeth sparkled, nearly luminous in the dark room. Jola smirked in return, both brows lifting. 

“Remarkable, or dangerous.” His arm slipped around her waist, holding her close. Even if their agreement was solidified, it didn’t stop him from working near it. Their mouths found purchase against one another’s once again, warm and heavy. His hand had held firmly at the nape of her neck, thumb trailing the delicate curve of her jawline. The mutual need for one another burned in waves, yet it would have to be resolved another time. Sooner than later, especially with Jola’s behavior.

Once they parted, Jola rested her head against his chest, feeling his arms wrapped securely around her. It was one of the greatest feelings, being held by him. Her eyes fluttered shut, encapsulated by his warmth. She felt so safe, and the dull ache within her leg was ignored altogether. He eventually ushered her towards the bed, knowing she needed to rest. Joining her without hesitation, they slept facing one another, with her head curled close to his chest. 

He certainly became used to sleeping with her in this way -- her presence alone had soothed whatever thoughts came nagging at night. He glanced at her thigh, wrapped to near-perfection. There was no sign of blood coming through the bandages. The Rodian did her job well. Gently moving the sheet over her, both Mirialan and Mandalorian dozed off together, overcome by exhaustion.

\--------

When dawn had come over the settlement of Haven, Jola was still fast asleep, tangled within the white sheets that had been draped over her form. The woman tended to be quite the dominator of space whenever it came to sleeping. She reached out, hoping to find Mando beside her, yet all she found was emptiness - the air. Cracking open one eye, he wasn’t anywhere in her peripheral vision. 

She heard the noises of running water in the washroom - he must’ve been there. Jola finally sat upright, the pain in her thigh having nearly gone away completely. Rubbing one hand across both of her eyes, she caught sight of the child, who was still fast asleep within the carrier. Eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, he slumbered peacefully, the holocron still trapped between his arms. That brought a smile to her face, and she paced across the room, gently sweeping her thumb across the child’s cheek. 

Her nimble fingers began to pry apart the bandaging that had been wrapped around her thigh, making sure to check on the wound. Jola’s emerald skin was slightly dark where the bite wound was, and it appeared to be livid with how recent it was, yet there were no signs of infection or swelling. Pleased, she removed them altogether, finding her way into the refresher. Rifling through the various drawers and nooks, she found a spare roll of bandages. She just needed to clean the wound, and then wrap it again. Good as new.

Sitting on the smooth, white floors, Jola dragged a warm cloth across her wound, wincing slightly whenever she felt small pricks of pain. Her brows furrowed together, and she smoothed the pad of her thumb over it. She’d have scars from this. 

The Mirialan eventually made her way out, with a newly - bandaged thigh and feeling exceptionally well-rested. It wasn’t often that she got a night of full rest like that. The child was awake, standing up inside of the carrier. Upon seeing Jola, he began churring, reaching out with one little hand. Picking him up, Jola placed him onto the bed, fishing around the room for clothing. She noticed that some of their supplies had already been filled and replaced with something new and stocked. 

Once dressed, she opened the door, the child waddling along at her side. The Rodian from before was nowhere to be found . . . Strange. Jola went searching, perusing the complex for any sign of the alien that had saved her life. Picking up the kid just in case, she began to sense something a little more insidious. They weren’t safe. 

Footsteps approached, which prompted Jola to duck behind a large stack of crates. Keeping the child close to her chest, she could make out the shape of a figure stalking through the corridors, following the noise emanating from the tracking FOB he carried. She needed to warn Mando that they were being followed.

Sinking to the floor, concentration replaced her worry. Her eyes closed, and Jola reached out, guided by the Force. In a swift motion, her wrist would snap, sending a crate soaring right into the bounty hunter, crashing against him and pinning him to the floor. Relieved that it worked, Jola scrambled forward, kicking the blaster away. With the child in one arm and a blaster in the other, she fired off until she felt the gun overheat within her palm.

The tracking device grew faster whenever in proximity to the child. 

To make matters worse, the corpse of the Rodian was slumped near the doorway to her complex, blaster fire having burned right through her. Jola frowned, and turned around - right into the Mandalorian. He was armored, hauling their supplies, and clearly itching to leave. 

\--------

Their ascent into the skies was swift, hasty -- they weren’t about to stick around to attract more attention. With the child asleep in his new carrier, safely tucked away in another room, it gave the pair time to talk. His vessel was speeding through hyperspace, placed on autopilot until they could decide on where to go next.

“Where do you think we should go?” Jola asked, her arms folded across her chest. They were standing in the chambers aboard his ship, small and mildly confining, yet most ship quarters were like that. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted, unsure of their next course of action. “But we’ll think of something.” The Mandalorian reassured her, and Jola nodded. He would always think of something - he was cunning, intelligent. He knew the galaxy better than she did. 

Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, Mando took a seat beside her, leaning over to try and have a look at her leg. “It’s better,” She mused, clicking her tongue. “Whatever the Rodian did, it worked wonders. No infection, no swelling. Nothing.” Jola replied, almost feeling a little guilty. The Rodian died because of them. Even then, she tried not to dwell on it too much.

“Good.” He replied, both hands moving toward his helmet, which came off afterward. His visage was wrought with concentration and a subtle hint of worry. They couldn’t spend forever wandering across the galaxy in search of refuge. Sooner or later, they needed to find something that would last much longer than a day or two.

“You look . . . Stressed.” Jola stated, her palm pressing against his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t become frustrated.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Without missing a beat, he turned his face towards hers, lips securing themselves against her own. It was unusually tender, though Jola decided not to comment nor change anything. Lifting her hands to press against either side of his stubbled jaw, until her fingertips barely grazed his hair. He remained characteristically silent, and decided to abandon words in exchange for action. Sometimes, Jola wished he didn’t constantly cover himself up with that armor. It was a fleeting thought born from the vulgar side of her, but it was true.

The minutes that elapsed prior to their kiss were spent hastily removing clothing in what could only be described as furious frenzy. It was conducted in a haze of lust - it was different from Sorgan. However, it didn’t diminish the feelings they had for one another. She wouldn’t do this with anyone else - and vice versa. Armor clanked against the hard, cold floor, followed by woven garments and clothing that formed a massive heap against the ground. 

Pushing her into the corner, their mouths collided, wanton and full of need. Any soft, tender endeavors had been replaced with heat and fiery passion. His hands avoided pressing into her injured thigh, and instead found their position right against the curve of her waist, squeezing hard into her emerald flesh. There was brazen hunger laced into every kiss, every touch. Jola wasn’t about to deny him - she wouldn’t, ever. His teeth captured her lower lip, delivering nips and bites against it. The Mirialan felt warmth radiate from his form, something that made her shiver. 

Their messy, heated kisses didn’t alter nor simmer down. His strong hands were feeling her wherever they could, groping at her breasts. His silence was something she enjoyed - he was all action and motion, no chatter. It kept the atmosphere tensed, charged. His dark eyes had briefly met her own verdant ones, the pair panting in synchronization. The Mandalorian let his mouth travel lower, leaving bright marks against her neck to join the collection of those given to her on Sorgan. Every bit of her was perfection to him - a beauty unmatched by any other. 

The friction between them was enough to make Jola’s head swim. The mere sensation of physical contact was nothing short of exciting for her. She reached between them, her hands clamoring to grasp at his length. In a similar fashion to their previous encounter, she stroked along the length of his cock, her lips tugging into a playful smirk. A short huff escaped him, brows knitting together. In the very same breath, he was kissing her again, though her hand never left him. Jola felt the desperation, the want - she felt the same way.

As they briefly parted, a husky moan tore past the Mandalorian’s lips, a noise that Jola hadn’t heard before. It made her shiver with anticipation, and it only spurred her on in that very moment. Continuing to drag her hand along his length in steady, pumping motions, he grit his teeth, grunting and groaning into her ear. He always became so flustered whenever she touched him like -that-. 

She could feel him become hard within her grasp, and her confidence swelled within her. Jola felt his teeth bite down upon her shoulder, which elicited a startled moan from her mouth. One of his hands rest against her throat, a sensation that made her tense up. It was a foreign feeling to have another’s hand there, yet it brought about a gratification unlike any other. 

Instead of writhing underneath him this time, she thrust her weight forward, finding herself on top of him. He didn’t try and fight her this time, halfway propped up with one arm. Hastily licking his lips, his hand found itself back against her throat, just underneath her jaw. The sensation of squeezing made the Mirialan squirm, and once he noticed, he kept it there. Those thighs of hers straddled his hips, and even if one was injured, it certainly didn’t stop her. Kissing her once more, he felt Jola’s hand release his length from her hold, once he’d felt satisfied enough.

Planted on top of him, Jola moved her hips just enough, feeling him enter her without hesitation. She held still for a brief moment, adjusting slightly before her hips rolled. A moan escaped her, followed by a grunt from him. The Mandalorian enjoyed this view - maybe a little too much. As she began to move upon his cock, he’d brought enough pressure against her throat to make her buck forward, one hand splayed out across his chest, and the other gliding across his taut forearm. His other arm grasped at her hips, so tightly that it might’ve left bruises should be squeeze any more. Jola didn’t mind it - the rougher side to him was just as appealing as the softer side. 

The female’s motions became faster, riding his cock at a more intense pace. They were closer together, his hot breath fanning across her features. Yet another kiss was placed against her mouth, their tongues tangling together for a brief moment. A low groan escaped him the more she picked up her pace, hips tilting at the perfect angle to grind against his own. Clutching at the delicate curve where her thigh had met her hips, he used his iron-like hold to push her down onto his length, his grunts intermingled with the high-pitched sounds of her moans.

It didn’t take long for either of them to cum, both being equally as touch-starved as the other. His chest rose and fell with heavy pants, and Jola shuddered, writhing on top of him before hunching over. Her head fell forward, teeth grinding together very sharply. The Mandalorian slipped his fingers underneath her chin, lifting her head slightly in order to meet his gaze. He didn’t say anything - Jola knew that he didn’t need to. Everything was so perfectly conveyed within his eyes, causing her skin to crawl with a flustered blush.

His calloused hand brushed away her hair from her face, swiping it over the back of her neck. Once more, he soaked in the finer details of her visage. The long, black eyelashes that fluttered against her emerald skin, the dark, geometric tattoos that lined both of her cheeks, and down the center of her lip. Jola’s hands found themselves on either side of his head, fingers curled into the grey sheets. Unable to keep herself from smiling, she leaned down, pressing her lips to his.

Rolling off of him, Jola settled down at his side, her head resting against his shoulder. “You never disappoint.” She teased, biting back a sultry grin. She felt him shift and adjust, moving until he was propped up on one arm, gazing down upon her. 

“Neither do you.” He murmured, tracing his fingertips along the curve of her jaw, pressing his palm against her cheek. His tone was tender, nearly bristling with adoration. Yet for him, it was bridled, subtle. For so long, he’d been devoid of any physical intimacy - just like this. He knew that for Jola, it was the same. Feeling her brought about a comfort unlike any other, compassionate side to him rarely seen. He kissed her again, moving back down beside her, arms twined around her side.

They laid together in a comfortable silence -- and waited.


End file.
